DJ Dogboy and the Rock n' Roll Milkman
by is this wiener loaded
Summary: Voldemort never existed. After Hogwarts, Remus and Sirius moved in together into a flat in South London. Theirs is a life of drink, cheap women and all night benders. DJ Dogboy and the Rock n' Roll Milkman.
1. Chapter 1

**This fic owes more than a little to The Mighty Boosh. I thought that comparison was pretty funny and it just came out - Remus the put-upon Howard Moon type and Sirius the showboating Vince Noir. There's a simple truth to it.**

_Voldemort never existed. James and Lily got married but didn't have kids because Snape cast a Sterilisation Charm. Remus and Sirius moved in together after Hogwarts, into a small flat in South London. Sirius works as a DJ and Remus as a milkman; the proverbial odd couple. Harry Potter doesn't exist. Sirius and Remus are all that is left of the marauding days of seventies Hogwarts. Theirs is a life of drink, drugs, cheap slappers and all night benders. DJ Dogboy and the Rock N' Roll Milkman._

"What do you think of this, Moony?" Sirius asked.

"Er, I'm not sure I'm a fan of the military look," Remus said, looking up from his copy of _Zoo_.

"Really?" Sirius wrinkled up his nose. "The Libertines wore these all the time."

"About five years ago now. Indie's over, Sirius."

"No way." Sirius was defiant. "No fucking way, man. I'm bringing it back."

"You mean like you were gonna bring back MC Hammer trousers?"

"Everyone this side of the river's got Hammer pants." Sirius said, taking the jacket off.

"Nobody with an ounce of cool comes this side of the river."

"Er, yeah they do," Sirius said. "Fancy a G & T?"

"I'll have a beer," Remus said, putting down his magazine and wandering through to the kitchen. He picked up a bottle of Bombay Sapphire and another of tonic water, and grabbed a Carling from the fridge. When he went back in, Sirius was sporting a sarong and an England shirt.

"David Beckham's out too," Remus said, sitting back down.

"Oh fuck off Moony."

That night they decided to go to a rave. There was a queue of fifteen year old girls in denim skirts and leggings standing outside, swigging cider from 2 litre bottles.

"Sod this for a game," Sirius said, and he barged to the front, flapping his Hammer pants as he went. "Yeah, we're on the guest list," he said to the meat head bloke on the door.

"No guest list mate."

"You serious?" Sirius said.

"It's an illegal rave, nobody knew about it until an hour ago, there isn't a fookin' guest list."

"Yeah alright, alright."

"We're not gonna get past this queue are we?" Remus said quietly, casting a sideways glance at Sirius.

"Look mate," Sirius said, completely forgetting that he could have just used magic and confused the guy into letting them in, "don't you know who we are?"

Remus's hands went straight to his head as it always automatically did when Sirius began the 'don't you know who we are' speech.

"No I don't," said Meat Head. "Who are you?"

"DJ Dogboy," Sirius said, doffing his fedora to Mr. Meaty. "And this is my bitch—"

"I'm not your bitch, Sirius," Remus began, but Sirius shushed him.

"This is my bitch."

"And what's your name?" Mr. Meaty said with a smirk.

"I'm er…I'm the…"

"Spit it out," Meaty said, his look of amusement dissolving into one of annoyance.

Remus sighed heavily and shook his head. When he spoke it was barely audible. "The Rock N' Roll Milkman."

"You what?" said a zit-ridden fifteen year old behind them.

"Rock N' Roll Milkman inne?" Sirius said. "Can we come in then?"

"Mate," Meaty said, directing his attention to Remus and actually looking like he felt a bit sorry for him, "there's gange in the punch. Get in there. And you," he turned to Sirius, "Dogbreath. Sort that fucking skirt out."

"Cheers mate," Sirius said, and he led the way into the rave

Inside it was delightfully full of fourteen year old girls and an assortment of eighteen year old public schoolboys carrying as many drugs as their parents' allowance would permit. These boys were all sporting huge scarves, neon pink plastic-framed sunglasses, skin-tight jeans and whistles on strings around their necks.

"See, Sirius, this is what it's all about," Remus said, pointing at the nearest hoodlum, who seemed to be screeching along to the music about how it wasn't over, wasn't over, wasn't over, wasn't over yet.

"What you talking about, Moony?" Sirius said, nodding his head and looking around for some semblance of a bar.

"Nu-rave."

"You what?"

"Nu-rave," Remus repeated, this time a little slower. "Haven't you seen Skins?"

Sirius stared at Remus, completely bemused. "What _are_ you talking about, mate?"

Remus sighed. "Never mind. The punch is over there," he added, craftily changing the subject.

They made their way over towards the punch bowl where they were greeted by a midget and a guy in a gorilla suit.

"Alright Frank," Sirius addressed the midget while pouring himself some punch. He gulped it down eagerly then looked intently at Frank.

"Not bad," the midget said, in a particularly high pitched voice.

"Still struggling to reach stuff?"

"Yeah," Frank said. "It's a bit of a bastard accidentally getting your legs chopped off by a mantrap."

"I told you not to go to an anti fox-hunting protest," Remus chipped in. "It was only a matter of time before the toffs fucked off the foxes and started on people."

"Yeah," Sirius was nodding as Frank jumped up and down on the spot trying to reach the punch and not being entirely (at all) successful.

"What about you fellas?" the gorilla said, passing Frank a drink.

"Yeah, yeah, sweet mate, sweet," Sirius drawled, swaying slightly. "I think that gin's gone to my head."

"You had one shot, Sirius, one."

"Yeah but it was a big shot… woah…" Sirius had gone cross-eyed, and he began to twitch his hips in time with the music. "This is mint, I'm so hammered…"

Remus rolled his eyes. "I hope this isn't gonna be a repeat of what happened at your birthday party."

"Ah no…no way," the gorilla said shaking his head, eyes wide. "That was messy, man. I can't believe you ate that budgie…"

"Budgie schmudgie!" Sirius yelled and began nodding his head in time with twitching his hips in time with the music.

"You ate the budgie," Frank said, standing on his tiptoes and trying to get a refill of punch, "and then you jumped out of the window and broke your hand."

"Yeah, yeah!" the gorilla said, excited as the memories came flooding back to him, "You were going: 'I can fly! I can fly!' and then you started singing that R. Kelly song…

"…and then you jumped out the window and nearly landed on that bird, and her fella stamped on your head."

"Rock 'n' ROLL!" Sirius proclaimed, still looking like he was fighting off a seizure. He twitched over to the dance floor, where, within seconds, some fifteen year old girl was sidling up to him.

Remus sighed heavily. "We're not gonna be able to get a cab home if he carries on like this. Nobody'll take him."

"I wouldn't, mate," the gorilla said.

"Oh that's right, isn't it? You're a cabbie now?" Frank said, giving the gorilla's leg a congratulatory slap because he couldn't reach his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, that's right. I've got the knowledge."

"Well done, Dave," Remus said, holding up his glass. "Congrats."

"Cheers mate. Anyway, how are you? I haven't seen you since that night Sirius did down the Nag's Head."

"That night was mental," Frank said, nodding sagely.

"Don't remind me," Remus said, trying to suppress the memory of scraping Sirius off the tarmac after one too many shots of absinthe.

"So what you up to?"

"Not much really, just trying to keep it together."

"You still a milky?"

"Yeah, it works out alright. I do the nights with piss-head over there, then when I've put him to bed I go off on my round."

"Doesn't sound too bad," Dave agreed. "Anyway, I'm off outside for a fag. Bloody smoking ban."

Remus and Frank shrugged as if to say 'what can you do?', then Remus left Frank by the punch (because there was nobody there to carry him) and headed over to the dance floor to try and keep an eye on Sirius.

"Weeeeeeeeeyyyy!" Sirius slurred as soon as he saw Remus.

"Christ, you really can't hold your drink can you?"

"Woss that now?"

"Nothing, nothing. Doesn't matter. I'm off to the toilets."

Sirius paused for a moment, then his eyes widened with understanding and he made a very exaggerated wink at Remus. "I getcha," he said, nodding emphatically.

Remus sighed heavily and found himself rolling his eyes again. "Not for…oh for fuck's sake, I've just gone to the bogs alright? Don't do anything stupid."

Sirius held his arms wide in mock offence. "Would I?" he bellowed.

"Yes," Remus called over his shoulder without bothering to look back.

Needless to say, the night had gone from bad to worse. Sirius had at least three more glasses of punch and seemed to have lost his grasp of the English language, so Remus had to pull him into an unsteady fireman's lift and carry him back through Shoreditch. Unfortunately, the punch repeated on Sirius, and most of it ended up down Remus' back, ruining his Smiths T-shirt. When they got back home, they found the door had been kicked in and the offender seemed to have locked themselves in the bathroom.

Sirius was draped over the couch singing Abba songs entirely out of tune. Remus headed to the bathroom and knocked angrily on the door.

"Who's in there?" he shouted, wishing that the night could just be over and he could get back out there and do his round; then it would finally be bedtime.

The toilet flushed and Remus heard the sound of somebody struggling with the lock.

There was a momentary pause, then the door shuddered in the frame.

"Er," came a voice from inside, "I can't get the bloody door open."

"You have to lean on the door and then turn the key," Remus said, standing back slightly.

There was another rattle, then the door opened to reveal a girl in a My Chemical Romance t-shirt with stars tattooed on her feet.

"What's going on, Moony?" Sirius called from the front room.

"Nothing mate, there was just a prostitute in the bathroom, that's all."

The girl's mouth fell open. "What are you on about?" she said, clearly a touch hacked off. "I'm an emo, not a hooker."

Remus heard a laugh from behind him, and suddenly Sirius came crashing towards them.

"An emo? In my _house_?" Sirius roared dramatically, then collapsed into a fit of hysterical laughter, which resulted in some dry heaving and an unsuccessful attempt to vomit.

"What's up with him?" the girl asked, her eyebrows hovering somewhere near her hairline.

"He's a terminal idiot," Remus said.

"Fuck off!" Sirius managed to say as he crawled along the floor and into the bathroom.

"Alright then." Remus turned and walked away, leaving Sirius clutching at the toilet bowl, the MCR clad stranger looking on in utter confusion. Deciding she might get more sense out of the man who wasn't hovering over the john, she followed Remus into the front room where he was cracking open another beer.

"Aren't you going to ask what I'm doing in your flat?" she said, sitting down on the chair opposite where Remus sat on the couch, his feet up on the coffee table.

"I don't mean to be rude," he said, "but I really can't be bothered getting into it. I've got to go to work in a couple of hours and I'm knackered from the evening's events."

"He's pretty rough, eh?" the girl said, as another retch issued from the bathroom.

"This is nothing," Remus said, "you should have seen him the night we had the Nag's Head Christmas party. Egg nog going in the wrong direction is not something you want to experience."

The girl laughed. "So what's _your_ deal then?" she said, leaning back.

"Ah. Little of this, little of that."

"A man of mystery, eh? Got any special talents?"

"I can arm wrestle with my left hand."

"Oh yeah? Very good. Did you know you've got sick on your back?"

"Yeah," Remus said. "I should probably wash my shirt."


	2. Chapter 2

Three hours later, after he'd changed his shirt and let the prostitute out, Remus was ready to go off on his round. He had put on his uniform, and found that Sirius had customized it when he wasn't looking: he had added darts down the sides of the tunic to make it more figure hugging, and he'd taken the legs in at the bottom so that Remus found himself wearing skinnies. There was also a row of military medals on the left-hand front panel. Remus sighed in exasperation but had had no time to change. It wasn't until he got back to the flat and caught sight of himself in the mirror that he realised his hat was lined with gold braid and there was a plastic anchor sewn onto the front.

"What the fuck's this?" he yelled to the mirror in the front room.

Sirius was in the kitchen but he didn't respond so Remus stormed in and glared at him.

"What the fuck's this?" he said again.

"Pot noodle," Sirius said, looking blank as he poured the contents of the kettle into his Nice N' Spicy.

"This, you tit." Remus pointed at the hat.

"What?" Sirius shook his head, bewildered. "That's the height of cool, mate. Nautical is everywhere."

"Not when you're a milkman it's not."

"You're not just any milkman though are you, Moony?" Sirius inhaled sharply as he accidentally splashed boiling water onto his hand. "Should I put the sauce on?"

"Eh?"

"Nice N' Spicy sauce. I haven't had this one before, is the sauce alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine."

"Nice one," Sirius said, and walked straight past Remus into the front room, where he turned the TV onto _This Morning._ "Oh bollocks," he said, "I've missed Jeremy Kyle."

Remus was clearly losing patience with Sirius. He flung his hat at him and the peak landed nicely in the noodle pot.

"What have you done that for? You've got sauce on it now."

"Well it can't look any stupider can it, really? I don't know why it is you feel the need to systematically wreck all my stuff. You just sit around all day doing fuck all and expect me to deal with all the cleaning and I can't be arsed with it any more. Why can't you get a normal job? I swear I am never carrying you home again. I've had it."

"Oh come on, Moony, what's the problem? Someone's got to earn the money."

"Yes but since when did earning money have to include being pissed up all the time and getting vom on all my clothes?"

"You stay up late too, you don't have to come out if you don't want. I haven't made you. And you've had your share of hangovers."

"Well it's either that or let you roam loose round Shoreditch probably getting arrested. I drink to numb the pain."

"You must be in a lot of pain then." Sirius slopped some noodles down his front and Remus rolled his eyes.

"I am," he said, gesturing at his medals.

"Right, well then we're equal Stevens."

"Dipshit," Remus muttered, and promptly retired to bed.

That evening was Sirius's night off, and Frank and Dave came round for a game of SingStar.

"What you singing then, Sirius?" Frank said, cracking open a Carlsberg.

"Total Eclipse of the Heart, obviously."

"Not again," Dave sighed. "Every time you do that one you totally murder it."

"It's my best one," Sirius shot back. "You love it, monkey boy."

"I'm an ape," Dave said.

"Same diff."

Remus had emerged from his room an hour earlier and was in the kitchen putting popcorn in the microwave. "Are we watching a film later?" he asked.

"Yeah, I've brought American History X," Frank called.

"I thought we were watching Bad Boys II?" Sirius said, plugging in his microphone.

"Not that dross." Dave shook his head. "Why are you so obsessed with that movie?"

Sirius, grinning, jumped onto the pouffe. "Bad boys, bad boys," he sang, clutching his microphone, "whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do when they come for you? Bad boys, bad boys…"

"Give it a rest." Remus entered the front room carrying a large bowl of popcorn and three bottles of Grolsch.

"Whatcha gonna do, Moony? They're gonna come for you."

A knock on the door startled all four of them. "I think they're here," Remus said.

"Who the fuck's that at this time?" Dave said, clearly gnatsed off at the interruption.

Remus sauntered through to the front door and opened it to find the prosti-emo from the night before.

"Hiya," she said.

"Er, alright?"

They stood there looking at each other for a moment before Remus remembered his manners and asked her in.

"I thought I'd just call round and say thanks for letting me use your loo."

"We didn't _let_ you really, did we? You kicked the door in."

"At least I didn't nick anything. You've got some good DVDs, I could have had them away for a start."

"What like Bad Boys II?" Sirius said hopefully.

"Not that dross," she scowled.

"D'you want a beer?" Remus asked.

"Nah, I should get going really…" she caught sight of the PlayStation and glanced back at Remus. "You playing SingStar?"

"Apparently," he replied.

She looked tempted for a moment, but then turned back towards the hall. "I really should shoot off, I've got a lot on this evening."

"I bet you have," Sirius crowed, but she ignored him. Remus followed her to the door. As she was about to go through it, she turned to him and handed him a card.

"Just in case of emergencies," she said, and then she was gone.

"What was all that about?" Frank said, looking confused.

"Not sure," Remus said. He looked at the card.

"Is that her _phone number_?" Sirius roared, leaping up and slapping Remus on the back. "You've still got it! It never left you!"

"It's a business card," he said, shoving Sirius back onto the couch.

"She didn't need to give you one of those," he scoffed, "you could have got one out of the phone box round the corner."

"I don't think she actually is a prostitute you know," Remus said, scratching his head.

"I don't recognise her," Dave agreed.

"She's a plumber."

"You what?"

"She's an 'emo-plumber'."

"What does that mean?"

"She fixes your pipes dressed as an emo."

"Why the fuck would anyone do that?" Sirius frowned.

"Actually," Frank offered, "there's quite a market for it."

"How do you know?"

"Emos are better plumbers than regular people. They've got a lot more experience with waterworks."

"Oh aye," Sirius said. "Now it makes sense."

"Hold on…" Remus's eyes were narrowed, and he flipped the card over. "You're never gonna believe this…"

Sirius, Frank and Dave exchanged glances. "Now what?" Sirius demanded.

"Look at this." Remus flicked the card at Sirius, and he managed to catch it before it landed in his gin.

As he turned the card over, Sirius's mouth dropped open. "No way," he breathed. "She's let herself go… Fucking hell, what's that all about?"

"What?" Frank whined. "What's going on?"

"Yeah, share it with the class." Dave sounded impatient.

"We used to go to school with this bird," Sirius said. "She married one of our best mates." He handed the card to Frank, and Dave leaned over for a closer look. 'Lily Evans', it said, 'Emo Plumber of Bromley'.


End file.
